


The Counselor

by For the Record (SakoAkarui)



Series: Animorphs - Tom AU [8]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakoAkarui/pseuds/For%20the%20Record
Summary: Our latest adventure.
Series: Animorphs - Tom AU [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/176459
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	1. Admission

Hey, Tom again. Been a while, hasn’t it? It’s been, what… over a year, right? More? Over a year since I put up all that on the Yeerk pool. Told you how it all started. Guess we’ve come full circle, because instead of rehashing old things we’ve been through I’m basically going to be telling you what’s happening right now. So, okay. Let’s get on to it. The Yeerks — disgusting and immoral bastards that they are — have started targeting counseling centers. Or just the one, I don’t know. The people there don’t have serious problems. Like, I haven’t seen anyone flipping out. But just people who have too much anxiety, or depression, and just need a little help. And it matches the Yeerk profile, after all. Want your problems to go away? Feeling lonely, want a permanent friend? We’ve got just the thing!

I had thought, with writing to all of you, I’d have posted more, you know, because I was told writing would help. But I couldn’t bring myself to post anything so I just had to delete everything I wrote. Still helps though, right? Just writing it out. And I asked Ax about this, since he’s sort of the one tracking the postings and everything on what we write, but it looks like not many people are reading this. Except for seven “bookmarks” so, hi there, seven people! And various “kudos” which he tells me are good things and they probably have read some of it, too. Ax said none of the others, us I mean, have been reading it to his knowledge. He said on his part he couldn’t because it was too difficult. I mean, I started with his brother dying, I can see why he’d be a little hesitant.

So this is about as safe a place as it gets. Just you and me, Mr/Ms bookmarks. And all the people kudoing, however many, because Ax didn’t tell me how many. And I guess the lurkers who maybe read and buzz off. Whatever it’s anonymous enough and where else can I say any of this? The reason I know that they’ve targeted a counseling office is it’s the one I go to. Yeah, that’s right. My parents signed me up for therapy.

I guess I was just dealing really badly with everything that’s been going on. I mean, I know the others are having a hard time. I’m sure their grades have dropped. But Rachel still goes to gymnastics. Cassie still does all that work with her dad. Marco still plays all those games, I know, because he talks about them constantly. Me? I quit basketball.

Actually, I kind of got kicked from the team. First, my coach came to me since I hadn’t been playing so well. I was making a lot of dumb mistakes. I told him I was just really tired, but he kind of insisted I go see the school’s counselor after long enough. My coach is a great guy. He was clearly worried, and I don’t know how he knew my grades were plummeting, but the counselor was more than ready to see me. I admitted that playing basketball just didn’t seem like it used to, which was true, even though I couldn’t tell her why. And my coach kept talking to me, even though I quit the team, and my parents were worried (after my dad threw a fit about me quitting basketball), and since I wasn’t “getting better” — I tried to just act normal, I really did — they signed me up for therapy. Like, real therapy.

It’s the bizarrest thing, having someone you’re supposed to tell every confidential thing to, and not being able to say a word. She’s a nice person. One of the first things she suggested was keeping a journal, which was why I suggested this idea in the first place, back when I posted that first entry. I just really wanted to have the truth somewhere and have someone hear and maybe not think I’m crazy.

So, thank you, anonymous people, for that.

I keep a normal stuff journal to keep track of what to talk about with Ruth. She wanted us on first name terms, probably to be more friendly. And I’m honest about everything except the war stuff. I don’t talk about the nightmares since I don’t know how to explain those, but I do say I don’t sleep well.

So it really bothered me when this company, one we know is a Yeerk run facility through and through, bought out Ruth’s practice. I mean, what if they infest her? They might’ve already done it. I’m supposed to see her in a couple days and I don’t really know what to think about that. Would I even prefer to know for sure if she is? Dealing with Jake is torture as it is.

Anyway. Marco called for the meeting. Somehow, between him and Ax, they’ve got everything in this town tracked. I just got a text from Marco suggesting a hike and I knew that was that. Not even an Applebee’s moment. Mom needed the car today for something, so I biked. It’s nice to bike. Burning the energy somehow seems better as a normal human rather than flapping along. It’s safer too, I think. Can’t let Jake see me morphing or it’s all over. I was apparently early, because I came up on Tobias’s meadow before anyone else.

It’s actually kind of cool. Okay, not the meadow, where they both spend much of their time anyway. I meant the computer set up they have nearby, hidden in a cluster of rocks. Between Erek and Ax, or probably just Erek to be honest, they got a computer set up with internet and everything, complete with a generator. Solar powered. Ax complains about the keyboard, but he used to call it “quaint”. So it was Ax who broke the news to me.

I reacted badly, but just excused it as being angry with the Yeerks. I know they use these tactics at the Sharing, but it strikes so far below the belt to seek out counselors. Marco thought as much himself.

“I don’t know what they’re thinking, going after people whose minds aren’t all there.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Cassie said. “Sometimes people just need a little help to pull things together. Therapy is supposed to be very beneficial.”

“But wouldn’t the minds just be… you know, not what they want?” Marco returned. “They want healthy humans, correct?”

<I am confused,> Ax said. <From what Prince Tom has told me, many of these customers are not suffering from medical mental defects. How would they be unhealthy for infestation?>

“Prince Tom told you?” Marco said with a grin. He gets a kick out of saying ‘Prince Tom’ whenever I seem to be doing anything remotely leader-y.

“I got here before you and we were talking. Cassie’s right, this isn’t a psychiatrist’s office. And even if it was. It’s people who are having a hard time and need someone to help them through it. And the last thing they should be getting is a Yeerk stuck in their head as some sort of suggestion to ‘get better’.”

“I’m for anything that stops the Yeerks from getting farther,” Rachel said. “So what do we do, our normal?”

Our normal was to sabotage the project. When Esporish — that’s the Yeerk company — buys something, they normally have some scheme in mind. Most of the time we could just go in and get rid of whatever made the company want it, and they sell it off sooner or later. But what they wanted here was the actual service. Which meant the other form of sabotage.

Shutting the company down.

I went part of the way home with Marco, keeping up some conversation. He asked about sports, and I made things up because I haven’t been paying attention for months. I asked him about this game I know he’s become obsessed with and then I didn’t need to talk at all.

And now I’m here, pouring all this out into the void, or as good as the void. I mean, I know it’s being read, but I don’t hear the responses. Not that I’ve checked. Sorry. I guess I’m just worried. Worried about Ruth. Worried about me and what’ll happen next with my family. Worried everyone will find out how weak I am that I’m sitting in a therapy room and falling apart at school. _They_ aren’t.

I guess I’m not really the leader they deserve. I refuse to give up, don’t get me wrong. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, to win this fight. I just wish there were someone stronger in my place, who they could trust more, because whoever that was would be strong enough to earn that trust and really turn this war on the Yeerks’ heads.

I need to sleep. Or pretend to sleep. I’ll probably be on soon again though.

Until then.

-Tom


	2. Ruth

I think I was being melodramatic the other day. I mean, it was all true, and yeah, I am not dealing with this well. But it’s not like I’ve become this slop pile unable to do anything.

I’m still in school, even though my grades are horrendous. The teachers are all sympathetic, since I spend a lot of time in the library. But I spend it researching strategy. Wars. Battle formations and logistics and everything we need. Taking stock of what we have on our side, and what we lack. Which is a lot. We are outgunned and outnumbered, and unfortunately we can’t treat civilians right. Anyone could be a controller. So there aren’t civilians anymore; there’s just people hijacked and turned against us. And that’s it. I can’t do anything except this stupid war. But I guess if I’m going to be as stubborn and single minded as my mom always says, then the war is probably the best thing I can invest everything in. Screw my life, I’ve got other things to do, whether I like it or not.

That’s what is making it hard, the pretending. My family can’t see that I’m still moving, still working at something and really pushing hard. They think I’ve given up, and there’s nothing I can say to convince them I haven’t. But talking with Ruth is refreshing, so things could be worse. 

And we have a mission.

They all had some big test coming up, so I said I’d check the place out. Made up some excuse that I’d just walk in and ask some innocuous questions. Said I’d go in today, conveniently timed with my appointment. It makes me nervous, because I’m used to feeling relaxed there. Now I need to be on guard, looking for anything out of order. Something weird. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for, even though I know the place well enough to know if something’s off, I guess. The receptionist, Mary, was professional as usual. She’s the type to give you the smile necessary when you walk in then ignore you as much as possible. There was a woman sitting on one of the couches, reading a magazine. I didn’t recognize her, but that’s pretty typical. My own appointments shift regularly, so I never really recognize the other people sitting in the waiting room. I sat on the couch across from her and waited. Nothing seemed different about the place. But what was I to expect?

“Tom?” I looked up to see Ruth at the end of the hall leading to the back rooms. I smiled and stood up. “Come on back.”

I followed Ruth to her office. It’s a really nice looking room. All the furniture has cushions with these aesthetically pleasing circles on them, and the colors are bright and fresh. It’s a really inviting place to walk into, and the chair I always sit in is very comfy.

“How are you today, Tom?”

“I’m fine,” I replied.

“Alright, that’s good.” Ruth has this tone when she knows I’m lying. She uses it a lot, unfortunately. But she never calls me out on it. “Tell me about your week.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of work in the library,” I told her. Which was true. I found a copy of The Art of War on our bookshelves a while back and I wanted to review it. We’re not doing too badly as far as our resources are concerned, I feel, everything considered.

“That’s very good,” Ruth said. “Your education is important. How is your sleeping?”

“Bad,” I said honestly. “I think I got two hours last night.”

“Did you stay up, or were you trying to sleep?”

“I tried,” I argued. I was a bit defensive, I guess. But I had really tried. “I just can’t get to sleep is all. I keep mulling through things over and over.”

“And what things are you thinking about?”

“Just… school. And how I messed up with basketball.”

“You didn’t mess up,” Ruth assured me. “These things happen, and there will always be time to play basketball later.”

“But I won’t get a scholarship,” I said, which is something that’s upset me. My dad has been banking on me getting a basketball scholarship for college. Without playing, I can’t get the scholarship. Without the scholarship, we’re footing the bill. This all assumes I even get to college. Like I said, my grades have tanked. And there’s the possibility of me just outright dying.

“You can get other scholarships,” Ruth told me. “And there are plenty of good schools that you’ll be able to attend without a scholarship.”

“It still would’ve been better with a scholarship,” I finished lamely. Basketball was the one thing I was really good at. And this stupid war took that from me.

“Let’s try to think productively about what we can do to help you sleep. Have you been exercising regularly? We’ve talked about how you have less exercise without basketball. Have you done anything yet to take its place?”

“I bike,” I said. “When I can’t use the car.”

“Biking’s very good,” Ruth said. “That is a very healthy habit. How often do you bike?”

“Um, I’m not sure. A couple of times a week?” I said. It’s probably about that. But I do other things, like flying and fighting evil space monsters so I think I probably get my exercise quotient in.

“Maybe we should aim for three times a week,” Ruth suggested. “How do you think that might fit into your schedule?” I shrugged.

“I can try,” I said, which is what I say when I’m not going to try at all.

“Let’s try. Maybe that will help with your sleeping.” Ruth took a few notes on her writing pad. I’ve always wondered what she writes. “And have you been writing? Writing down your thoughts and feelings will help get them out of your head. That might also help you sleep.”

“I’ve been writing,” I said. Which is true, but my Journal For Ruth is pretty sparse. There’s just not much to say about school and such that really compares. As for what you’re reading now, I write for this project maybe twice a week, but I just delete it after I write. I mean, it’s gibberish. One time I just wrote ‘I hate this war’ over and over for an entire page. That one was actually kind of cathartic.

“Is there anything you care to share?” Ruth asked. I shook my head. “That’s alright. It’s good to write, even if it’s just for yourself. Try to write every day, no matter how little the details seem. Would you like to move on to some exercises?”

Exercises with Ruth are kind of dumb, in my opinion, but I guess they’re helpful. It’s just frame of mind sort of games to help restructure the way you interpret things. The exercises we work on are supposed to help me focus more and to think about the positives in my life over the negatives. Ruth agrees with my school counselor that I’m a pessimistic person. And I wonder why that might be.

At the end of session, I felt this urge to ask Ruth about the buyout.

“I’m surprised you heard,” she said. “It isn’t anything to be concerned about. The practice will still be operating exactly as it has before. Really, it’s just a new load of paperwork. Has that been worrying you?”

“A little,” I admitted, because I can’t lie all the time. “Do companies normally buy out therapy practices?”

“It happens,” Ruth said with a shrug. “Really, Tom, don’t worry about the change in management. I promise you that I hold myself to the strictest standard. If anything threatened the integrity of my work with my clients, I’d do something about it. Your wellbeing is very important to me.

“But that does remind me. Now, I know you might not want to talk about it, but you never seem to mention your friends during session. Are you still talking with your friends?”

The answer was essentially no. It’s been hard to keep up with people.

“I talk to people,” I said evasively. I couldn’t exactly go into detail about being brothers-in-arms with all of Jake’s friends.

“Well, if you do feel a bit out of place, we’ve started working with this group known as The Sharing. I have a flyer here…”

“My brother’s in The Sharing,” I blurted out.

“Even better,” she said. “Your brother can be a great resource for you. Family is the strongest support we have.”

“Right,” I said. I refused the flyer. “It just doesn’t seem like the place for me.”

“Okay, Tom,” Ruth said. She sounded a little disappointed. “If you ever change your mind, they are always there for support.”

I nodded, thanked Ruth for her help, and left. I biked home, but I’d’ve rather flown.


	3. Today Sucks

Okay, every day sucks, but this was a particularly bad day. I won’t go into school and Peter and all that junk. I’ll see Ruth again tomorrow and she can hear all that. Today sucks because Rachel came up with an idea which normally spells for trouble.

I love my cousin. I really do. But her solution to problems is basically to smash them with a hammer, then steamroll it for good measure. It doesn’t make it better that this is a war and it’s kind of refreshing to see that. I hate the Yeerks. I hate what they are doing to all those people and what they plan to do to the Earth. So seeing a grizzly go fully belligerent and scare a hork-bajir off its rear end is really satisfying. The embarrassing side of hate I guess.

I’m probably being selfish here, but her plan is just dangerous. There’s a number of ways for a business to fail, and only a few of them are fast enough for what we want. One is some sort of scandal. Anything that gives the company a bad name and ruins the appeal for the Yeerks. Which won’t work here because they’ll just buy up another counseling place. So what’s the next one?

Destroy it.

Rachel wants to get in there and break it all down, but not the practice part. She wants to target the Yeerk part. For whatever they’re doing, they’ve got to somehow link the victims to the infestation. That either means an entrance to the Pool — which is a horrible idea, the human would see what’s going on and try to bolt the second they’re in earshot of the screaming — or some mini infestation set up within the counseling center. She’s thinking if we sabotage that, the Yeerks will realize there’s a flaw in their plan and try something new.

I’m not convinced it’ll work. It might keep them away from Ruth’s practice, but for all I know she’s already compromised. I just don’t know, to be honest. I don’t know what we should do. I told them about my scoping out the place, but obviously I wasn’t going to tell them I was in one of the back rooms. And I’ve never seen the back back rooms where all the paperwork happens. So Cassie suggested we try and investigate a little more before going full battle mode. She’s a good hearted soul.

So that’s our plan. We’ll head out tomorrow, pull an all nighter to get inside after everyone’s gone home. I always wonder what would happen if my parents came to check on me when I’m out on these late night missions, but so far it hasn’t come up. Let’s hope it stays that way, I guess. Maybe tomorrow will be better than today. The bar is really low right about now.

And I should put this down or I’ll be pulling two all-nighters in a row.


	4. Inside the Counseling Center

We met up in the parking lot next to Ruth’s practice. We didn’t expect there to be much in the way of security, but we decided careful was better than not. The doors had those brushes on the bottom, which ruled out cockroach, and the windows all had screens. But I knew they had a mail slot next to the front door, didn’t even have a flap on it, so we had a way in. We decided to go fly since the vision, while dizzying, isn’t that bad. It’s weird to see your cousin’s head balloon up into fly eyes — especially if it’s the first thing to change — but the weirdest for me is Tobias. Ever since he got his morphing back it’s weirded me out to see a hawk turn into all manner of things.

It was a long journey as fly to get to the front door, but we got inside without incident. I assured them that I hadn’t seen any cameras when I’d scouted the place — I actually asked Ruth the first session if I was being recorded, and she said they don’t keep cameras in the building and then I looked to be sure — so once we were inside I led the way towards the back rooms.

<Do we just check the offices?> Rachel asked.

<This feels wrong,> Cassie said. <We shouldn’t be snooping through patient files.>

<They’re strangers,> Marco said. <And we’re doing it to _help_ them. Do you want to seem them infested?>

<Okay, calm down everyone,> I said, trying to create order. <There are the offices of the therapists and there’s a back office with all the other documentation. They might have information on the buyout there. We’ll split up. I’ll take the office on the far end,> which happened to be Ruth’s, <someone else can grab the office here. Marco, you want to look in there?>

<Let’s go in pairs,> Tobias suggested. <There could still be trouble lurking around here.>

<Okay,> I said, even though I disliked the idea. <Ax with me. Cassie and Marco in the office. Rachel and Tobias to the back rooms. If you find a mini infestation set up like we’ve been theorizing, let us know.>

<Imma just destroy it,> Rachel said.

<No, we need to plan this out carefully,> I responded. <If we’re going to destroy it, we need to do it last.>

<If?> Rachel asked, incredulous.

<Just go with it, Rachel,> I said, exasperated. I had more things to deal with.

<Prince Tom decrees,> Marco chimed in.

<Shut up, Marco,> Rachel responded.

I proceeded to Ruth’s office with Ax. I was thinking then of ways to look through files without Ax finding mine. But I thought, of all of them, Ax would be the least awkward person, well Andalite, to find out my secret. I thought he just wouldn’t understand it, and I could ask him to keep it secret.

When we got to the room, we landed and demorphed. I decided to have Ax take the computer while I looked through the hard files. I had seen Ruth stash the keys to her file cabinet in her desk — which actually is probably a horrible practice, but she’s only human — so I thought it’d be easy to get in. And it was. When Ax slashed the lock to the desk.

I have to agree with Cassie that this was pretty sketchy, digging through confidential files like this. But we had to find something to figure out what exactly was going on with the Yeerks. So we did the sketchy thing and searched the office. He took the computer while I took to the filing cabinets. I ignored the other clients’ files — I couldn’t bring myself to snoop into the notes of others — but I couldn’t stop myself from digging into mine. So I found out today that my therapist thinks I’m paranoid and socially repressed. That was a fun read.

<I’ve found something,> Ax said from the computer.

“What is it?” I asked, putting my file back in the cabinet.

<In looking at this doctor’s emails, I found arguments about finding ‘suitable candidates’ for a new medical procedure. The one arguing for the procedure is from Esporish, and has sent data claiming the procedure’s safety and high results combatting ‘depression’. I would wager this procedure would be a Yeerk infestation from context.>

“What does R— er, the therapist say?”

<They are wary to try the procedure,> Ax replied. <I would suspect they are not a controller yet.>

That ‘yet’ sent shivers down my spine.

<Prince Tom, they have compiled a list of patients that would meet the requirements for the procedure who they will give the option of participating,> Ax continued, but he sounded hesitant. <I thought there might be a mistake on the list.>

“Oh,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. I had a feeling right then what Ax had found.

<…Prince Tom, is your name common?> Ax asked. I think he was looking for a way out for me, but I couldn’t really outright lie to him for some reason. I’m sick of lying, to be honest.

“It’s not a mistake,” I told Ax. “I’m one of Ruth’s clients. Just… don’t tell the others, okay?”

<Prince Tom—>

“Stop calling me that,” I snapped. Ax shifted his weight from front to back and his stalk eyes bobbed back and forth.

<My apologies. I only mean to say this is serious. You cannot be infested.>

“I know that,” I shot back. “I’m not about to volunteer. But I need somewhere to go, somewhere to talk about things, okay? I need this.”

<Okay,> Ax said. I don’t know if it is okay.

“Do we need to keep looking on the computer?” I asked.

<I’m done,> Ax replied.

“So am I,” I said. “Let’s go find the others.”

Cassie and Marco were already in the back. They hadn’t discovered anything, but Cassie had also kept Marco from looking in anything related to clients. Rachel had found something, though.

“They’re holding a big meeting at the Sharing headquarters,” she explained. “They’ll have the quacks in for a full member meeting to explain what the Sharing is all about, help them understand the benefits of full membership.”

“So they’re going to infest them?” Marco said. “That’s what that means. Infest the docs and the patients will follow.”

“They’re not patients,” I snapped. “These people aren’t sick. They’re just clients in for help.”

“Since when are you Mr. PC?” Marco asked. “Fine, clients, who cares, how do we save these people?”

“We have to stop that meeting,” Cassie said. “We can’t let them infest anyone.”

<That still does not solve our immediate problem,> Ax said. <This facility can not be Yeerk run. How do we make them turn away from this plan?>

“Well,” Marco said, looking over some files Rachel had pulled, “we could always sabotage their incoming mini jacuzzis.”

“What?” Rachel asked. I went to read over Marco’s shoulder. Sure enough, the image on the sheet he was holding looked like a mini-jacuzzi. They were being pushed as a new type of sensation therapy. The patients put their heads in briefly and, miraculously, walked away cured.

“When are these coming in?” I asked.

“Shipping says yesterday so… a week from now?” Marco said with a shrug. “I don’t know, the only place it could be is in one of those boxes in the storage room.”

So we searched, and found one under a pile of boxes. It didn’t have any liquid in it, but it was tall enough that a person could easily bend over and dip their head in.

“Ax, the Yeerks can’t survive in plain water, right? They have that gray, sludgy liquid.”

<Yes, they require kandrona rays to permeate the liquid to survive. They can last for a short period of time outside of a host, longer in liquid then on land. But they need to imbibe kandrona and they also suffer from the cold outside of the pool.>

“The pools are warm?” Cassie asked.

<Yes, roughly human body temperature.>

“Is that different than Andalite body temperature?” Marco muttered.

<Yes, by about two human degrees,> Ax replied. <Celsius.>

“Could we reprogram it to be, say, _twice_ human body temperature?” I asked.

“Don’t join in,” Marco said.

<I do not know, Prince Tom. I am not a mechanic.>

“There’s an instruction guide,” Cassie said, raising a heavy tome I’d set aside without a thought. We all stared at her like she was nuts.

“You can’t honestly expect us to read that,” Marco said even as I reached for the book.

“We’re picking up a new skill today. Okay. Tobias, Cassie, go keep an eye out to make sure we’re not caught with our pants down. We might be here a while.”

Prying open the plates to get to the circuitry was the easy part. In the end it took me, Marco and Ax an hour and a half to disconnect what we hoped was the regulator. Rachel, who grew so impatient as to be a bother, was sent out to watch guard as well. Without the regulator, with luck, the part of the mini pool that stabilized the heat would cease to work, and the temperature would rise indefinitely. Or so I hope. I carefully placed the outer plate back in place and stood up fully.

“Okay. So there’s some sabotage,” I said. Marco shook his head.

“They’ll just think it’s one misfiring unit. It won’t be enough to make them stop. We need to think bigger.”

“What are you thinking?” I asked, because if there’s one thing Marco actually is always doing, it’s thinking.

“Well, we might not be able to put the counseling center out of business, but a scandal on the other end might do it.”

“I’m not following,” I replied.

<Sabotage Esporish directly?> Ax asked. I exhaled sharply.

“They are built like a fortress.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Marco asked. I didn’t. But I did have a ticking clock.

“This weekend they’re going to infest the employees,” I said. “We have to stop that first.”

“The Sharing, then,” Marco said. I nodded. We went out with the others and planned to meet tomorrow. We only have a couple of days to work with. And really I’m just exhausted. I can’t sleep because I keep thinking that Ruth’s going to get infected, and I don’t know where I’ll go after that. We’ve got very little time, and all the pressure is on my shoulders and I just really could use a break for once.

When I got home, I noticed Jake’s light was on, which is bizarre because I got home around 3 AM. So, stupidly I should add, after sneaking as carefully as possible back into the house, I went out and knocked on his door. Pretended to do the big brother thing.

“Yeah?” he asked, popping his head out of the door.

“It’s 3 AM, Jake,” I told him. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

“I just got up to use the bathroom,” I lied. “Saw your light on. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. And I expected him to sound like he was fine, but he sounded stressed to me. “It’s just a project I shouldn’t have put off. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Don’t let your grades tank like mine did.”

“Hey, don’t joke about that,” Jake said, sounding serious. I guess he always was kind of a serious kid. It’s hard to reconcile with reality sometimes. “You’re going through some rough stuff,” he finished.

“Right,” I said. “Thanks. For understanding.”

“Get some sleep, Tom.”

And I don’t think I will tonight but at least I have plenty to think about.


	5. Lucky Breaks Do Exist

Today did not suck. Shocking, yes, but true. Two days ago I felt dreadfully certain Ruth was going to be infected and I’d have to come up with an excuse to quit therapy. And you know, I don’t want anyone to know I go to therapy, but I do think it is helping. I think if I could actually let out the worries I’m really holding on to it’d help a lot. But for now I can just try and keep the status quo, which means keeping Ruth Yeerk free.

Are you familiar with the media’s scandal obsession? A few months back we had to run this spa out of business, because it had fallen into Yeerk hands. We found out one of the owners was committing some pretty serious fraud, and, although we struggled with it, we eventually got enough evidence anonymously into journalists’ hands, and they went nuts. It ran in the city paper, and the spa was done for. So we have an idea on how to exploit a scandal, if the same tactics will work twice.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start two days ago, when we met in the meadow to try and find a way to stop this Sharing meeting.

“We could just ambush it,” Rachel said. We all expected her to say it, I think, but I guess it still needed saying.

“They’ll try again,” I said. “Besides, we could hurt innocent people that way.”

“Why not just do what we just did?” Cassie asked. I looked at her quizzically. 

“What do you mean?” Marco asked.

“I mean we do some investigation, just like we did with the counseling center, and see if we can find anything to make them cancel the meeting. The Sharing has to have a headquarters.”

“Wouldn’t their headquarters be in the Yeerk pool complex?” I asked. I always assumed that’s where most Yeerk work happened, considering the size of the place.

“They have an office on Magnolia Drive,” Marco said. I’ve stopped asking how he knows these things. I assumed it involved collaboration with Ax and computers.

“And if we find nothing?” Rachel asked.

“Then loud and angry,” I said resignedly. “Carefully.”

We had two days. One day to investigate the headquarters. The next evening was the meeting. So there wasn’t time to make a third plan. We discussed details a little more, but determined that we’d just have to wing it this time around. We’re getting good at that. And maybe I sound cocky now, but everything went right. As someone writing about it after the fact, I’m going to ruin the suspense for the sake of celebrating.

Magnolia Drive is in the downtown region. Not the most crowded of streets, but still pretty busy. Our guess was they’d have gleet bio filters, so the plan was pretty haphazard — pretend to be the janitorial staff and search then.

There were some close calls. Rachel and Cassie ran into one of the actual workers — a manager — before we even got to The Sharing’s offices. He berated them for slacking off, but they somehow placated him and ‘got to work’, as it were. The tightest thing was that we’d had the narrow two hour window for Ax. (Tobias we left overhead for security. A lookout was much more critical at this point, but we needed Ax for the computers.)

The offices were, frankly, boring. It really was the nuts and bolts accounting of what keeps The Sharing running. It was none of our fortes, but we combed through everything, looking for something to give The Sharing a bigger problem.

Ax explained, leaning back from the screen.

“I notice a lot of them are listed as full members,” Marco muttered. “Which explains the generosity.”

“There’s corporations, too,” I said. Rachel glanced at us from her position in the front room, on look out.

“Who’s giving the most?” Cassie asked. “Does anyone stand out?”

“Uh…” Marco said, scrolling down. Then he whistled. “Well, don’t know if they’re the most, but Esporish is putting a hefty sum behind the Sharing.”

“So we’re back to Esporish,” I said, discontent. I knew this was a satellite office at best, but I’d been hoping for something.

“What about emails?” Marco said. “Put up a search for Esporish through the email.”

And then we found it.

So, there’s a lot of kinds of fraud out there. One type of accounting fraud that will ruin a company is the double check scheme. Basically, whenever the accountant pays a bill (writes a check) they write a second check for themselves of a lesser amount and record a slightly higher cost in the books. With time, they can siphon off a lot of money.

Apparently Esporish does this with a lot of the places they buy up. From a Yeerk standpoint, I guess it isn’t that nefarious because they’re just moving money between entities they own, but it’s pretty twisted. The email exchange we found was two controllers debating how much money to siphon and how. The Sharing guy was old hat at all this, and the Esporish guy was getting tips. 

So we forwarded all of that in a nice little package to our contact and escaped post haste. Like I said, there are lucky breaks. These two guys will probably die for their lax security but we had to do it, and it worked out to our favor. We attended The Sharing meeting, and (though there was still a huge meeting) it was all full members. None of the counseling staff showed. So we assumed they canceled in the face of the horrendous press that had broken that morning.

Esporish is in rough shape. The dregs of the news. Arrests. It’s glorious. I’m so happy I don’t know what to do with myself.

You know what? I’m gonna go shoot some hoops.


	6. Loose Ends

I’ll keep this short, as I doubt you find it very interesting, but I can’t really spew my thoughts out elsewhere. So Esporish is in death throes, which is great. Just fantastic. I went to my regular appointment with Ruth, and when I asked about the ‘new management’, she diplomatically asserted that the center had regained its independence. We had a good session after that. She still suggested the Sharing as a good opportunity, but I think she honestly is just looking at them like scouts or something.

But that wasn’t the only thing I had to wrap up. It was the more pleasant one, probably my best session… ever. And I’d love to bask in that relief. But I had a bigger problem hanging over me.

Ax.

I went out to the meadow on my own yesterday, hoping to catch him when Tobias was out surfing thermals. He wasn’t, but I asked if I could have a private talk with Ax, and Tobias, thankfully, didn’t make a big deal out of it. And it was awkward, but I had a long talk with Ax.

“I want to start by apologizing,” I told him. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you when we were at the center. I know you aren’t trying to mock me or anything with this prince stuff.”

<I would never address someone as a Prince in jest,> Ax said, and he sounded insulted.

“I know,” I said. “I know. It’s just weird for me, that’s all. And the circumstances… I mean, you heard how Marco talked about these places.”

<He appeared condescending,> Ax said carefully. <Is it embarrassing for humans?>

“Do Andantes not have counseling?” I asked. “I mean, is there ever a time when an Andalite is dealing with issues that overwhelm them, and they hire someone professional to figure out how to deal with… emotions and thoughts and stupid things like that.”

Ax did respond for a bit, but eventually he said, <I don’t think that sounds very stupid. …It is not something I would think about. To succumb to mental pressure in the military is to allow purchase to weakness. We cannot allow this. But if I were not in the military…>

“Isn’t that where we need this the most?” I asked. “I didn’t need help when figuring out how to talk to girls without sounding like a dumb jock was my biggest worry. But war? That’s serious. Isn’t that where we should offer the most help?”

<I don’t know, Prince Tom.>

“Well, you might not know, but what do you think?” I asked. Because Ax can be stubbornly stuck in his formalities.

<…I think, if it is helping you, and you are not at risk of infestation, perhaps it is an acceptable risk.>

“Thank you,” I said, then sort of regretted it. I wasn’t even sure what I was thanking him for. I don’t even know now.

<I will not tell the others,> Ax continued. <I can keep this a secret.>

“I’d appreciate that.”

We made some more small talk, but ultimately I left soon after. Ax is a hard guy to read. Maybe it’s because he’s an alien, but at other times he seems so, you know, human, too. 

I had one other conversation, today, that is worth mentioning.

“Yo, pint-size.”

Jake turned from his computer, bags under his eyes. He frowned at me like he always has when I call him pint-size, which is why I’ve never stopped.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Stop whatever that stupid project is and come play hoops.”

“I can’t,” the Yeerk replied. He looked regretful. I decided to up the ante.

“Ruth says I need more social interaction. I thought I should start here. So, hoops? Just an hour.”

He gave in. Whatever he’s doing has him exhausted because he played horribly. I mean, it was a little embarrassing. But I kept up the banter, because even if that Yeerk is in control, I know Jake is under there. Maybe even vicariously he could enjoy some hoops. I told the war thinking part of my brain I was just distracting the enemy but really, it was really simple.

I played some basketball with my brother.


End file.
